


Morning at the Fifth

by junko



Series: Chasing Demons [38]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a sleepless night in Aizen's bed at the Fifth Division, Renji runs into an old... um, friend....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning at the Fifth

**Author's Note:**

> For all my 'um... friends' out there!
> 
> Also thanks again to Josey for being an awesome beta reader (thanks, too, for checking my Japanese.)

Renji drifted in and out of consciousness, but never truly slept. 

He decided that was probably for the best given how unusually snuggly Byakuya was. Maybe it was the thin sheets of Aizen’s bed, the cool night air, or the fact that they’d just had an intense heart-to-heart. But, whatever the reason, Byakuya pressed tightly against Renji’s back, his arm tucked in close around Renji’s waist.

“How come I can’t get you to do this in your own damn bed?” Renji muttered. 

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he pried himself out from under Byakuya. By the time the Third’s hand was on the door, Renji was up and out of bed and half-dressed. The Third looked surprised to see him standing there shouldering into the kosode. Or maybe she was scandalized by the tattoos that were clearly visible on his chest and torso.

He grabbed Zabimaru and his tabi and quickly slipped out the door to stand beside her under the portico. Slinging the socks over his shoulder and tucking Zabimaru under his arm, he shut the door quietly. “Let’s let the captain sleep,” he told her. “I’ll wake him when I bring back breakfast.”

She continued to stare at Renji’s chest, her mouth hanging open as wide as the kosode.

So, it was the ink that had her so befuddled.

Renji had to actively resist a perverse desire to fling the shirts open and let her see the whole array. But, he couldn’t hold back the impish smile that curled his lips, as he pointed to his face, “Oi, I’m up here.”

“What?” She blinked, clearly embarrassed to have been caught staring. But, then her eyes jumped to the tattoos on his forehead and she suddenly seemed to have been struck dumb again.

This was why he wore a bandana so often, he sighed. Otherwise, he’d never have anyone’s proper attention. 

Meanwhile, her eyes had moved on to his hair, as if it had never occurred to her how long it might be when not pulled up into his usual topknot. Or maybe she was just stunned by the color of it in the morning light.

Regardless, it was a bit awkward to be causing this kind of reaction in someone he couldn’t even remember the name of. So he did his best to ignore her and went back to tucking the kosode into his hakama. “I take it the mess is open?” He knotted the belt and slid Zabimaru into place. After he’d given the uniform one last straightening, he flipped the tail of his braid up out of the collar. He glanced over to see if she’d recovered yet. “I’ll just grab some chow and we’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

She finally seemed to come to. “Oh, there’s really no hurry, sir. But, shouldn’t the captain join us?”

Renji laughed a little at the idea. “The twenty-eighth head of the Kuchiki clan does not dine with the unwashed masses. He’ll eat privately.” When she looked worried, like she might have to assign someone to fetch and carry, Renji raised his hand to hold back her concern. “I got this. Like I said, I’ll bring him something back.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, with a curious look at the closed door as though trying to imagine the kind privilege Byakuya was used to. Eventually, she gave up with a shake of her head, “I suppose he has servants at the Sixth?”

Slipping his waraji on to bare feet, Renji decided to put his socks on after he’d gotten food. Together, they headed toward the mess. “Yeah,” Renji explained as they walked, “There’s a whole crew that comes with the estate, including a private chef.”

“Oh dear,” she said glanced back over her shoulder towards the captain’s quarters, “I doubt we’ll live up to his standards.”

“No one does. But, don’t worry; he’ll be a polite guest.” Renji said as they continued through the practice yard. He undid the end of his braid, and started working out the twists with his fingers. “Anyway, I’m used to running interference.”

She watched the progress of his hair unwinding with the same rapt attention she’d given him while he’d dressed. “I don’t know how you do it,” she mused. “Captain Aizen was so easy-going,” she stopped herself and gave Renji a nervous glance. “I mean, on the surface.”

Renji frowned, watching the anxious way she tried to back away from any kind word for her former commander. Aizen was an absolute ass, but it was still sort of sad to see. What if things had turned out differently and Renji had ended up being painted a traitor for trying to free Rukia? So he felt he needed to say, “Look, I remember how proud I was to come here with Kira and Momo. I felt… hand-picked, you know? And, I was desperate to show Captain Aizen I was a good bet, even though I couldn’t quite figure why the heck he’d chosen me. My kidō couldn’t be more random, and you guys here are famous for your skill in it.”

She seemed to brighten a little at the compliment to her division. “You were the top three of your graduating class, sir. It was quite the coup for the Fifth. We were just as proud to have you.”

After shaking his hair out, he pulled it back and tied it into his usual topknot, “Yeah, until I needed bouncing. Anyway, the point is, I’ve got fond memories of him, too.” Not many, but she didn’t need to know that. “It’s okay to miss him.”

“I disagree,” she said suddenly, “He hid his true face from us. Literally. I hate him for that. He’s turned anything I thought was good into a lie. I hope he dies a painful death.”

Her vehemence startled Renji for a second, but then he laughed. “Yeah, okay,” he smiled, “Me, too.”

When her flash of anger faded, she looked tired and worn out. She gestured at the open door to the mess hall, indicating he should go through, but Renji paused at the bottom of the stairs. 

“You keeping up with everything?” he asked her, looking intently into her exhausted gaze. “Only, I’m a whiz at requisitioning toilet paper if you wanted a morning off or something.”

She started to shake her head and say everything was fine, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“We owe you for your hospitality,” he said. “Let me do something in return.”

She looked him up and down. “Paperwork I can handle. Do you think you could lead the morning exercises? Maybe something showy and fun to get everyone going?”

A little morale boost? Renji nodded, even though he wasn’t so sure about this. “Anything that would help.”

#

As Renji filled his own tray, he tried to remember if he’d ever seen Byakuya eat nattō, and if so, how he liked it. He turned to the guy in line beside him. “Everyone eats nattō, right?”

The guy piled a bunch of steamed rice on his plate and shrugged. “I think it stinks.”

On his other side, a woman leaned across him to tell the nattō-hating guy, “You should try it over rice with soy sauce and an egg on top.”

“Everybody eats it like that,” nattō-hater said. “It still stinks.”

Renji couldn’t necessarily disagree, though he tended to find the smell more like pungent cheese, which always made his mouth water. 

“Try mayonnaise,” someone further down the line suggested. “Or hot mustard.”

Hot. Right. Byakuya liked spicy. 

Suddenly, his elbow was bumped when someone budged the line. “What the hell are you even doing here, Renji Abarai? I mean, besides polling our division’s nattō preferences? Didn’t we kick you out decades ago?”

Renji looked over to see a vaguely familiar face. He had a scar that split his left eyebrow and shoulder-length black hair with purple-streaked forelocks. It took Renji a second to pull the name out the back of his brain, and, when he did, it was followed by memories of a younger version of the man, drunken sex, and awkward morning-afters. “Kazu Numajiri! Uh… it’s been a while, huh? You’re still here?”

He patted his chest proudly, “Fifth Seat.”

Renji couldn’t help gesturing at himself, “Lieutenant.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kazu rolled his eyes, which Renji suddenly remembered were a strangely seductive smoky gray-blue for such an otherwise unremarkable man. In fact, Renji found himself recalling more about Kazu’s zanpakutō than anything else. Her name was Byakko, White Tiger. It was talking about her and imagining how awesome her release would be that had led to the two of them into falling into bed. 

At his side, he could feel Zabimaru’s interest stirring again at the nearness of Byakko. 

Renji wondered if Kazu felt a similar reaction, because he glanced up at Renji with a knowing sort of smile. It was confirmed when he leaned in and said, “She always did like you for some reason.”

“Oi, keep the line moving,” nattō-hater grumbled.

Renji grabbed a bit of the hot mustard for Byakuya and smoked salmon for them both. 

“You eating for two?” Kazu asked looking at the doubled plates on Renji’s overloaded tray. 

“Grabbing stuff for the boss at the same time,” Renji explained. 

“Kuchiki-taicho is here?”

Renji felt a swell of pride at the hushed excitement in Kazu’s voice and the way whispers instantly rippled through the food line. “Yeah,” Renji said. He pointed to his chin, “I got in a spot of trouble last night and it kept us from making it back to the Sixth.”

“Trouble?” Kazu seemed to take in the extent Renji’s injuries all of a sudden. “Is that code for a brawl?”

“No,” Renji said, trying to keep his voice down as he reached for a bowl of clam miso. To Kazu’s curious look, Renji coughed out, “I might have botched a shunpō dash and bounced off a few buildings.”

“Are you as random at shunpō as you are at kidō?” Kazu laughed heartily when Renji shrugged, really not wanting to get into how alcohol had played into last night’s misstep. Kazu shook his head. “I have no idea how you became a lieutenant, seriously. And why didn’t Kuchiki just leave your miserable ass in the street?”

“I have no idea,” Renji murmured, trying to keep the blush from creeping up his neck, “Should’ve, I suppose.”

They’d reach the end of the line and Kazu directed Renji over to a table occupied by a bunch of guys that were clearly his buddies. Renji nodded to the ones he remembered from his days at the Fifth, and was introduced to the ones that were new. Once they were settled, Kazu asked, “So how come Kuchiki can’t fetch his own chow?”

“What are you stupid, Numajiri?” asked one of the new guys at the far end of the table. “Dude’s a noble. And a captain.”

“Aizen used to eat with us,” Kazu noted.

“Aizen was a fuck, it turned out,” muttered someone else.

Renji felt really uncomfortable, not knowing if he should agree or try to defend Aizen. Given how things had gone with the Third and how little he had to say on Aizen’s behalf, he just filled his mouth with nattō and rice. Everyone got quiet for a while, and Renji got the impression that it pissed Kazu off.

Renji kind of wanted to give Kazu a little reassuring pat on the thigh under the table, but he also didn’t want to get punched. 

As he pulled up another stringy clump of nattō, Renji tried to remember: was Kazu one of those guys who’d had stars in his eyes over Azien? Renji had no idea. But, it wouldn’t be that surprising. The truth of the matter was, a lot of folks had fallen under Aizen’s spell, including a bunch of people Renji respected like Momo and Kira. Like it or not, Aizen was charming and had always seemed fair and level-headed--an ideal captain, really. For the longest time, Renji had been in a deep minority with his dislike of Aizen, to the point that he always thought maybe there was something wrong with Zabimaru’s instinctive reaction.

At the table, the silence was growing tenser with every passing second.

Groping around for a conversation starter, Renji said, “So, yeah, your Third Seat asked me to run drills this morning.”

Renji tried not to be offended by the quickness of Kazu’s: “You?”

“That was kind of my thought,” Renji agreed. It was awkward on a lot of levels, not the least of which was that he’d left here in disgrace. But, the bigger issue to Renji’s mind was fighting style. “I don’t have a clue how to do all that high-level kidō in the middle of a battle, but my captain does.”

Someone at the far end of the table let out a low whistle. “I’d pay good money to watch Kuchiki-taicho fight.”

A lot of the guys at the table echoed, “Me, too.”

Of course Renji had no idea if Byakuya would agree to play the part of performing monkey for the Fifth, but it was worth a try. “That settles it,” Renji said, pushing back from the table with the tray. “I’ll ask him.”

#

Before heading back, Renji rearranged the tray and made room for a full pot of tea and two bowls. The cook only had low-grade konacha, which smelled weak and cheap to Renji, but he hoped maybe if he let it steep long enough Byakuya wouldn’t mind too much.

When he reached the captain’s quarters, Renji could tell Byakuya was still sound asleep. Quietly, he slid the door open with his foot. Squeezing through, Renji toed it closed behind him.

He set the tray on the floor beside Byakuya. Even though he knew he should probably wake him, Renji sat for a moment and watched Byakuya sleep. It was strange. Byakuya should look much the same, given how expressionless he usually kept his face, but sleep completely transformed Byakuya into a younger, more carefree person. Maybe it was the magic of being free of the kenseikan. There was something about Byakuya’s unbound hair that lifted years from him, while also adding a tantalizing hint of vulnerability. 

He almost looked human—approachable, real.

Especially, curled on his side like that, almost like a child. One of Byakuya’s hands was tucked flat under his chin, while the other lightly gripped the blankets near his chest. 

No longer able to resist, Renji stretched across the space and kissed Byakuya’s face. Into his ear, he whispered, “Hey. Time to wake up, Byakuya.”

Long, almost feminine eyelashes fluttered almost instantly. “Renji?”

Renji kissed Byakuya face again, and then sat back. “I brought breakfast.”

**Author's Note:**

> Research note: I ended up watching so many videos about eating natto for this fic that I ended up dreaming about it last night. (There's something seriously wrong with me.)


End file.
